Going To Hell
by iHaveNotTurnedGood
Summary: When Alfie is absent Form K have to join another teachers class. Ms. Pickwell's class...


**I don't own Bad Education. All rights go to their respective owners**

 **Going To Hell**

"Where's Alfie?" Joe enquires when their teacher hasn't shown up for a good ten minutes after he should have.

"The list of scenarios are endless." Jing says whilst reading a book.

"If he doesn't show up, we've got this classroom to ourselves." Rem Dogg points out.

"Brilliant." Mitchell smirks as Cleopatra moves her feet onto his lap, both leaning back into their chairs, Mitchell draping his arm around her shoulders as they play a computer game on his laptop.

"Hey babes, this is a nice surprise!" Stephen beams as Frank Grayson enters the classroom.

"You get my text?"

"Yeah, yeah but that's not the only reason I'm here."

"Want a chair?" Chantelle enquires.

"Nah, I'm not staying and neither are any of you." He informs them.

"What you on about?" Mitchell glances up at him.

"Ms has sent me to get you. Wickers and Gulliver are dealing with his bellend of a father, some accident, didn't get the specifics and I don't particularly care but, you lot are joining my class today." Frank explains.

"Wait, but your teacher is…" Cleo trails off as Joe slams his head into the desk.

"Pickwell."

 _Later…_

"She ain't that bad." Frank says in response to Stephen's moaning as they walk down the corridors arm in arm.

"Ain't that bad?"

"She's a'right." Frank shrugs.

"If you say so. Even though the list is endless why she isn't alright. However, she is incredibly stylish." Stephen remarks.

"Yes, she always looks so immaculate." Chantelle nods.

"Yet this is still going to be the worst day of our lives." Joe groans as he walks beside Rem Dogg and Mitchell and Cleo who are have their arms around each other.

"We have got to find a way out of this."

"On it." Mitchell says, pulling out his phone.

"Oi, Dickers. Where are you? Get here, now!" He snaps through his phone.

"Is that Alfie?" Joe looks to him hopefully.

"Look, I don't care if your dad's been in a car accident, just stick him in a wheelchair and have done. Leave Gulliver with him. We're in some serious trouble here." Mitchell explains as Cleo holds out her hand for the phone.

"Just put it on speaker." Joe suggests which Mitchell does.

"How bad is he, just do what Mitchell said. He'll be fine. He should be in a wheelchair anyway at his age." Joe calls.

"For gods sake Joe. I can't just leave him and anyways, just tell Jing to go easy on you all. You'll be fine, I'll be there when I can."

"Mate, you think we're being taught by Jing?! Hell nah, if it was her we could have just locked her up in the cupboard. Nah, we're being put in Pickwell's class. Pickwell!" Cleo snaps down the phone.

"Oh Jesus." Is Alfie's quiet response.

"So on your way, yeah?" Mitchell starts.

"Look, I'll do what I can. I know what you're going through and I will be there as soon as I can. I won't leave you with that monster all day. Ohh for gods sake, I'll just leave him with Rosie or something. I will come back for you." He promises before hanging up.

"Did he just hang up on us?" Joe queries.

"The silly prick." Mitchell hisses as he pockets his phone.

"I'm sure he'll come for us." Joe notes.

"Bet he won't." Cleo grumbles as they turn the corner.

"Ah, Mr. Grayson, you've delivered the hellions." Ms. Pickwell remarks at the sight of them.

"Right. There is a seating plan in my classroom. Won't take me long to find places where you lot can sit, few of you might have to take the floor." She tilts her head to the side.

"Welcome to hell." Joe says in a sing song voice under his breath.

"Fuck me." Mitchell grumbles.

"Not now." Cleo sighs.

"Can you not?" Rem Dogg requests.

"Said later, didn't I?" Cleo snaps back.

"Here, seat right here for you." Frank points Stephen in the direction of the chair right next to his.

"Actually, Mr. Carmichael shall be sitting in that far corner, over there." Pickwell points toward the complete opposite end of the room to Frank.

"What did you say?" Frank hisses.

"Ohh shut up Mr. Grayson. I haven't got the time or the patience today." She sighs before turning to the rest of Form K, giving Jing a seat at the back, putting Joe on the floor and putting Rem Dogg in the middle of a desk.

"Uh, wheelchair?" He protests.

"Just because you sinned in a previous life does not mean that you have the right to talk back to me about it." She shrugs whilst giving Chantelle the spare seat beside Frank and scattering the rest of Form K around her classroom until the only chair left is at the desk which is directly in front of Pickwell's desk.

"Mr. Harper." She nods toward it.

"You've got to be joking." He mutters but sits anyway.

"Where am I supposed to sit?" Cleo folds her arms as there are no more seats left over.

"On here, love." Mitchell pats his lap with his hand.

Shrugging, Cleo moves in that direction.

"That is not where you will be sitting Cleopatra. You can join Mr. Poulter."

"Bitch, I ain't sitting on the floor." Cleo protests.

"Well you'll get to sit on a chair during your detention tonight." Pickwell retorts.

"Fuck this shit. I'm out." Cleo raises her hands.

"I'll see you tonight and every night for the rest of this week then." Pickwell calls.

"Whatever." Cleo retorts, heading for the door.

"Hey don't leave us!" Mitchell protests.

"Man, I ain't staying here." She protests.

"Come on, we're all in this together!" Chantelle calls.

"SILENCE! ALL OF YOU. SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP NOW!" Pickwell screeches.

"Wow that screech was louder than your pigeons was when it got shot." Mitchell sniggers.

"Wait, is that it?" Joe frowns, looking to the window where a stuffed owl is positioned.

"Yeah, you can still see the bloodstain." Rem Dogg laughs.

The class falls silent when Pickwell screeches at them again and awards each of them with one weeks worth of detentions.

 _Sometime Later..._

"Here." Joe whispers as he passes yet another note to Cleo.

"Thanks, man." She murmurs as she unfolds it, smirking at it before scribbling something back and getting Joe to give it back to Mitchell.

"Miss Parsons, would you please stop trying to encourage the lads in my class to engage in intercourse with you. It's tiresome and none of them would sink that low… Oi, you cheeky bastard I saw that." She scolds the boy in her class that whilst sat next to Chantelle, gives her a flirtatious smile.

"Just because no one would be willing to sleep with you Ms." Chantelle retorts.

"Would you like another weeks worth of detentions?" She enquires before turning her attention to Joe and snatching the papers from his hand.

"I see you're something of a messenger, Mr. Poulter." She remarks whilst holding the notes.

"Now, as my class will tell you if I ever watch notes being passed in my lesson. I read them out in front of everybody. Seeing as they are of so much more important than my lesson." She says sarcastically.

"Yeah, Ms. I really wouldn't." Mitchell starts as Pickwell glances down at them.

"This lesson is shit, man. Oh, don't you worry about it love. I'll make up for it, yeah. We can go make Dickers suffer then it'll be just me and you. You better. Sure, I'll make it up to you. Haha, what if we get a little revenge whilst doing it. Go have a shag on every surface of Pickwell's… MR HARPER!" Pickwell suddenly yells as the class erupts into laughter, including Pickwell's pupils.

"SILENCE!" She screams again.

"You two, my office now." She hisses.

"That's where they were planning to go as well." Stephen smirks.

"Yeah ms, they should go to the Headmaster's office. I'll take 'em." Frank decides.

"I would rather escort them myself."

"You want to leave the rest of their lot in here on their own?" Frank queries.

"Take them straight there." Pickwell says sharply.

"Course, ms." Frank says, passing her desk in the way there. Mitchell and Cleo following him out of the door and down the corridor before he turns to them and shakes the set of key's he has in his hand at them.

"Is that…" Cleo trails off.

"The keys to Pickwell's car, yeah." Frank nods as Mitchell grins.

"Yes, bruv!"

 _Sometime Later…_

Still at the accident site, Alfie boredly discusses insurance matters with the police and the other people involved in the accident that involved five cars and a bus.

No one was badly hurt, just a little bruised and the cars were wrecked and seeing as it was caused because his father was, yet again, sexting a potential girlfriend. He hadn't been watching the road and had crashed into the back of the parked bus causing four other cars to crash into his, bit like dominos, Alfie thought.

Rosie had opted to going with his father to the hospital, leaving Alfie there to deal with the fallout, unfortunately.

"Probably going to go with an act of temporary insanity plea." Alfie notes when comments about legal issues arose, frowning when people disagree with that statement.

"What? He's an old man who was sexting a potential girlfriend. I'm pretty sure any judge and jury is going to see that as an act of temporary insanity!" Alfie cries as the screeching of tires fills his ears.

"What the…" He turns around as a few of the police officers begin to walk toward the car that just pulled up outside the crime scene, seemingly having broken various speed laws and the tires are smoking slightly.

"Oi, Dickers! Get in here now!" Mitchell yells at him from the car.

"We ain't messing around, car now!" Cleo yells.

"How did you… How…" Alfie is lost for words.

"Ain't rocket science bro, he drove, he tracked down your phone and I came with." She replies, beckoning him over.

"Downtown! In here, now!" Frank snarls at him as Alfie runs quickly toward the car that the police officers are still approaching.

"Wait… Is this Pickwell's car?!"

"She's doing our bloody head in." Mitchell says.

"So let me get this straight. She's treated you lot so badly that three of you stole her car and have come to get me back?"

"GET IN THE CAR!" Frank, Mitchell and Cleo yell simultaneously as Alfie smiles.

"Aww, guys, I'm touched."

 _Meanwhile..._

"Right, now chapter…" Pickwell trails off as after grabbing the book from her desk it collapses due to one side of the desk giving way.

"Brilliant!" Rem Dogg cackles as Joe looks on smugly, having been the one to pull out the screws in one of the legs in the desk.

"Who did this. Who dared to…" She is cut off when she slips up on a role of ribbon.

"Oh, sorry Ms, just fell out of my bag." Stephen smirks as he begins to roll the ribbon back up to the laughter of all the other pupils in the classroom.

Getting to her feet, Pickwell glares at them all before leaning on one of the front desks, a menacing look in her eyes.

"Three weeks worth of detentions, for all of you." She hisses before pulling back, pushing her hair back slightly before turning to the whiteboard.

Unaware that she'd actually wiped a whole load of glittery makeup across her face in doing so, seeing as as Chantelle had scattered a little on the part of the desk she'd been leaning on.

The class begins to snigger.

"Why do you all look so pleased with yourselves? Do you like being given three weeks worth of detentions? Would you like me to double that amount, triple it?" She folds her arms.

"Right that's it. Nine weeks worth of detentions for every student in this room." She declares sharply just as she trips up and falls on a pen.

"Sorry, Ms, just knocked my pencil case over." Joe shrugs to laughter from the rest of the pupils in the classroom as Pickwell glares at him.

"Right you… Ow!" She snaps as a piece of rolled up paper is catapulted at her.

"Just testing out my new catapult." Rem Dogg grins.

"Give me that, now!" She demands as Rem Dogg fires another piece of paper.

"HOW DARE…"

"What? You told me to give it to you!" Rem Dogg retorts as she snatches the catapult from him.

"Now, can we finally get on with the work I have given you. If there's any questions. Get them out the way with now then get on with the work and shut up." She sighs.

"What shade of lipstick do you buy? It's actually quite fabulous." Stephen remarks.

"Have you ever slept with anyone, Ms?" Chantelle smirks.

"If answer is yes, was it another woman or some kind of animal?" Rem Dogg enquires.

"Did you really make out with Alfie?" Joe tilts his head to the side.

"Ooh I've got another one. Is it true that you get Fraser out trouble with the school governors just as long as he agrees to sleep with you?" Stephen queries.

"What?" All the students look to him.

"Rumor that's going around." Stephen informs them.

"I've got a question." Jing starts.

"NO! No more questions. Just shut up the lot of you. That is twelve weeks of detentions for every single student in this room."

"But, Miss…"

"You've just got fifteen!" Pickwell snaps back at Jing.

"Unbelievable." Joe sniggers.

"You've got eighteen now, Mr Poulter."

"I was just going to ask about the work." Jing shrugs.

"Ok. Ok, thank you for that. The first sensible thing I've heard all day. You can forget about any detentions I've given you." Pickwell gives Jing a relieved glance.

"I want all the tasks on the sheet I've given each of you done before you leave. I will be checking. Alright, get on with it." She says, swearing under her breath as she approaches her broken desk.

"Miss, is that thing true about Fraser?" Rem Dogg starts.

"Right. That's it!" Pickwell turns on her class just as the door opens.

"Come on kids, back to the classroom. I am back, by force mind but back all the same. To the classroom!" Alfie calls from the door, Frank, Mitchell and Cleo stood behind him.

"Ohh thank god." Joe cries the instant he sees Alfie.

"You came back for us, sir!" Chantelle cheers.

"Ohh don't thank me." Alfie glances to Frank, Mitchell and Cleo.

"Our heroes." Stephen beams as he, Chantelle, Jing, Joe, Rem Dogg and the rest of Form K race towards the door.

"See ya, Iz." Alfie smirks at Pickwell as he and his form escape the classroom.

"Mr. Grayson." Pickwell starts as he walks into the room.

"Don't worry, I'm going to the office." He says smirking as he chucks her car keys at her.

"Figured you'd like these back though."

 _Elsewhere_

"Now, guys, my dad really was in a car accident so I really can't stay." Alfie informs Form K when they reach the classroom.

"The hell? Do you realize how many laws Mitchell, Frank and I just broke, man?" Cleo snaps at him.

"Don't worry. I've got a perfect idea who can look after you guys."

"Me?" Jing sighs.

"No. Right, all of you, get comfortable. I'll get you a brilliant supply teacher." He grins before exiting the classroom.

"If he brings back a prick, can I kill him?" Rem Dogg enquires.

"We will all help you if he does that." Stephen informs him as Alfie returns, Mr. Fraser and Frank behind him.

"Your supply teacher." Alfie gestures to Fraser.

"Oh thank god." Joe rests his head on the desk in pure relief.

"I am aware of what you have all been through. I know where you've been. I am here for all of you." Fraser gives them all a sympathetic glance.

"She sent me to the headmasters office and seeing how he's covering this lesson. Had to do something with me." Frank smirks.

"Wonderful!" Stephen claps his hands happily as he drags a chair to the other side of him, Frank joining him instantly. The couple chatting between themselves.

"I'll see you all tomorrow." Alfie gives them all a cheerful smile before leaving the classroom.

"If you make us do anything I swear…"

"Don't worry, Mr Mitchell. I am not. In reason you can do whatever you like to relax." Fraser replies before writing 'therapy' on the board.

"You've been through a lot today, relax now, you're safe." Fraser assures them.

"Thank you." Joe gives him a grateful look before promptly falling asleep in his chair, Chantelle doing the same, Frank and Stephen chatting quietly to the other whilst holding hands. Jing reading a book, Cleo sitting on and falling asleep on Mitchell and Rem Dogg sitting with a quizzical look upon his face.

"Sir." He calls quietly.

"Yes, Rem Dogg?" Fraser looks up at him.

"What is this rumor about you and Pickwell?" He frowns as Fraser slams his head on the desk, groaning as he does.

"Ohh god!"

 **Authors Note: Thank you all for reading this one shot :) do tell me what you all thought.**


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